


Variance

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Coping, Demisexuality, Falling In Love, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Violence, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8533054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Swallowing, he kept his eyes hard on Jason, searching as he spoke. "You came through my territory without word that you were doing it. Protocol variance is always something to question." He put on a cruel little smirk and leaned his torso forward in just the right amount of aggression without being outright nasty about it. "Isn't that why you're here? I stepped out of my routine and you came to see why." He gave a cocky little shrug, "I did the same."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Important note is that while I have tagged this as having a demisexual character, I personally have no experience with being demisexual (if anything I'm far far on the other end of the spectrum, perhaps into chronically oversexed) so my viewpoint on what would qualify as demisexual may be technically incorrect. I have done my best to incorporate what I have been told by people who are, what I have read as being the clinicality of it, but it may have all been taken with the "goggles" of a very sexual person. I was tentative to put the tag, but given I have been told multitudes of times that it's a spectrum and a wide array of things fall under it, I still feel that he could very well represent someone somewhere. In that light, the tag remains. But be aware if you're here solely because of that tag, you may be disappointed, though I did do my best.  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "I'll Keep Coming" by Low Roar / "Peeping Tom" by Placebo / "Valerie" by The Weeknd

Damian's feet hit the gravel on the last rooftop he'd seen Jason's shadow disappear onto, nearly soundless as he arrived, cape neatly tucked closer to him than needed, just to keep the sound of his landing down. Everything about him was perfectly schooled: his expression neutral, his breathing regulated in a way that screamed of control, even his heartbeat was well within resting parameters despite the nearly five block tail he'd had on Jason.

It might have done someone good to ask him why he was tailing Jason through Gotham, why he'd left his own territory wide open for this portion of the evening in order to track Jason's movements once he'd hit on his radar. But he imagined he couldn't have told them even if they had bothered to ask.

His comms remained silent, Oracle ever-quiet in his ear, not even the crackle of the others checking in with one another creating static across the lines. This either meant there was nothing going on or there was something big enough that it held all of their attention elsewhere. 

He darted across the building, sticking to the shadows in a way that he hadn't allowed himself in a _very_ long time. A prickle of excitement made its way up his spine and he realized - for an instant - why his father had put him and all the other Robins on such perfect _display_. The shadows were something that would always call to them, but they held _secrets_ , a sense of being able to get away with things they weren't supposed to. The light kept them in front of the world, ready and willing to take the brunt of whatever was thrown at them, including owning up to decisions they'd made. 

It was possible that was why he stuck to the shadows now: to hide himself from the truth of why he was tailing Jason. He allowed his mind to flirt with the possibilities behind all of his decisions, behind every stolen glance and every idle thought. Dick would have teased him about a _crush_. It wouldn't have been the first time, though certainly the first time with someone this close to all of them. 

Tim... Tim would have reserved his judgment, just silently watching Damian until he was _sure_ what was happening in his mind. Perhaps somewhere distant in the future, he would lead the conversation towards it just to see if Damian needed to _talk_. Over the years they'd developed something of a friendship; just enough to make them easy with one another's presence and enough so that whenever Tim needed it, Damian was there to listen. He knew the door revolved both ways, but he didn't work things out the same ways and it was _Jason_ who helped him the way he needed it when the frustration or the pressure grew to be too much. 

He drew up the memories of the past few months: of Jason sparring with him, the two of them intentionally getting a little rougher than the rest of them tended to get with sparring matches. He remembered the gleam of Jason's gun, the exhilaration when he actually tried to find an opening to use it, and he remembered the pin that had brought Jason's full body weight down on him, the sparkle in Jason's eyes as he _bested_ him. 

He _definitely_ remembered how his body had reacted. The hot little spark of _lust_ that he so rarely felt sizzling along his nerves, the coil of warmth settling at the base of his spine, blossoming outwards as Jason's arm pressed tighter at his throat. How he just _wouldn't_ tap out until his vision was hazy, until he was burning for oxygen and _something else_. And he remembered the clasp of Jason's hand around his forearm, helping to draw him up from the floor when he finally _gave_. 

The truth was, he also remembered the shame of how hours later, his own hands performed acts he hadn't in _months_ over the mere thought of Jason. The whisper of his name and the hitching gasp of breath as everything had happened far too easily beneath the hot rainfall of the shower. More than that, he remembered how he hadn't been able to even look Jason in the face the next time he'd seen him and _that_ had to stop.

That's what tonight was about. He'd picked up the fragments of a conversation between Jason and Tim, the question of if Tim could pick up his territory for an hour or so while Jason _met_ with someone. The look in Jason's eyes when he'd said it had been more than enough to tell Damian this wasn't a business meeting.

Jason made the leap a few buildings ahead and landed on a balcony that Damian could - thankfully - see from the ledge he was perched on. 

The sliding glass door opened and Damian's heart thudded hard in his chest, even as Jason stepped inside as if nothing in the world were _wrong_ with just who had opened the door. His breath hitched as he watched the slide of Jason's hand over none other than _Slade Wilson's_ chest. He watched his fingers catch on the buttons and the dip of one between buttons, hooking, and _tugging_.

Damian made the leap without his line, catching the next building's ledge with his fingertips and hauling himself up, rushing across it and kneeling by the ledge closest to Slade's apartment. He _knew_ his heart rate had picked up, that there was no way Oracle wasn't monitoring this and at least a little bit worried about him. Unless... unless she could read _why_ in the distinct thrum of it.

He reached up and let his mask focus closer on the scene unfolding right in front of the damn doors. He'd never thought Jason to be so _reckless_ , but he supposed lust did some seriously fucked up things to people. 

Jason pushed Slade down into a rather large - and expensive looking - armchair and came to stand in front of him, his head cocked to the side just enough that Damian got the impression of talking. Jason's hands rested behind his back and Damian watched the slow slide of his knife down into his grip, the gleam of the blade in what _had_ to be firelight just outside of his view, the wavering colors implying it. A false stove, perhaps.

In an instant, Jason was on Slade's lap, the knife at his throat. Slade held one of Jason's guns, casually trained at his gut and the smirk on his face was _more_ than enough to set Damian's breathing right up to _unsteady_. Jason's hand speared into Slade's hair and yanked his head back and Damian couldn't even _begin_ to stop the quick _hot_ coil that tightened inside of him as their lips crashed together. Frantic, messy, _perfect_.

Something glinted a few rooftops over and Damian took off toward it without hesitation, keeping himself low and as quiet as possible. He landed with a purposeful flutter of his cape just behind a man with a Savage one eleven sniper rifle. The man jerked slightly at the noise, turned and Damian took him down with the heel of his hand very _carefully_ placed. 

Blood spattered and he brought his boot down on the man's throat to keep him from screaming as he writhed on the ground. The gun was dismantled quicker than Damian could even _think_ about what he was doing, the pieces in a pile and the single bullet - cocky - neatly in his side pouch. Kneeling, Damian jabbed a few pressure points and rolled the man over, zip tying him up and moving to the new vantage point the guy had been using, perching on the edge of the building and fighting not to _shiver_.

Slade had his hand in Jason's pants, very clearly working his cock, though none of it was on display for the world, just neatly hidden away inside Jason's leather pants. One of Slade's fingers were pressed between Jason's lips and he was going to town on them in the lewdest possible manner. The gun had disappeared as had Jason's knife and when Jason shifted, Damian caught the way Slade's hand was pressed tightly against Jason's throat.

Damian choked back a wanton little sound and clenched his fists, glad the man at his feet would be out for at least a few hours with the points he'd used so he wouldn't _hear_ the way his breath nearly _panted_ from his lips. He wanted that, wanted Jason's hand around his own throat, wanted-

Surprise filtered through him as he realized he could imagine letting _Slade_ touch him as well. It wasn't anything he'd expected to feel, especially given how prone his body was to rampantly ignoring the vast majority of the population when it came to anything remotely sexual. He let his mind insert him into the situation, allowed Slade's fingers to be in _his_ mouth, Jason's hand around his throat, and the warm press of skin both behind and in front of himself, and he _shivered_. It was a deep sort of shiver, the kind that worked up from the inside, and he freed the quietest of moans to the world before forcing himself to turn away, to study the man at his feet. 

Kneeling, he brought up his wrist computer, scanned in the man's hand print, snapped the best possible picture of his face, blood-spattered as it was, and shipped the whole thing off to Oracle on the silent channel they'd set up between them. He didn't delude himself into thinking his father didn't know about it, that - perhaps - Tim did as well. After all, he was more than willing to admit the guy was a damn genius when it came to anything computer related. All the same, he knew he kept things off the comms when he got a little rough with someone.

A name and group affiliation came back to him less than a minute later, followed by a slew of files from the internet, a few quick ones from the deep web showing the lineup of a hit on Slade and this guy's acceptance of the contract. 

Damian sighed, reaching to close everything up when his comm crackled to life in his ear.

"Secured channel, no interference." Oracle's voice filtered through to him and he swallowed down the frustration, knowing she would have shored it up to the point that even Bruce would have to spend hours untangling it. 

"Present," he offered back as quietly as he could manage while still being heard.

"Is this the part where I ask why a certain little bird is taking out _Deathstroke's_ would be killer?"

Damian turned and let his eyes rest on the scene before him, on the way Jason's forehead pressed to Slade's, on the way Jason _rode_ Slade's hand. Looking away, he let his gaze wander the rooftops around him, scanning for any further threats. "Necessity."

"Mmmhmm... and your vitals? Not exactly the usual for a take-down."

Damian _let_ the shudder work through him, let his head tip back and his hips roll up from the ledge and then settle as he flicked his glance back at Slade and Jason. "I have my focus. That is all you need to worry about."

Oracle's warm chuckle came across the line and then the breath of, "I remember those days. Not too much distraction. Promise?"

Damian let out a little, "-tt-," and cut the line, silencing his comms completely and settling back to watch as Jason's hips jerked, as he was obviously _cumming_ for Slade. Fire burned inside of him and Damian fought to keep his hands steady and his breath from hitching the way it wanted to. He crouched, one arm on the ledge, body hidden behind it as Jason slid off of Slade's lap and between his legs, starting to open his pants.

Nothing could have stopped him from watching as Jason took Slade in hand and _especially_ not when he took him in his mouth. The taste of Damian's very _singular_ experience swelled up from his memories and he let his mind imagine the weight settled on his tongue. He slid his palm down, gripping himself harshly through his suit before letting go and standing. 

As much as he wanted to watch more of this, he _knew_ he couldn't. It was already violating Jason's privacy as it was and if he actually _saw_ Jason without his clothing, he wasn't sure how much control he could have over himself. He dragged the man over to the other side of the rooftop and dumped him down, retrieved the gun and case and set them far enough aside that it wouldn't be even remotely within the guy's reach, and provided the location to Oracle so she could call in the pickup from the police given the guy's record.

He opened back up his comms and took flight, grapple easily leading him between buildings, pulling him back toward his own territory and what he was _supposed_ to be doing. No one questioned him. No one asked where he'd been or why, and _that_ was just fine with him.

\------

Damian pressed his back to the cool tile of his shower wall. The waterfall of water from above him felt heavy on his skin, touching him in ways it hadn't in months. His skin still burned from earlier in the evening, still feel entirely raw from the inside out. The coil at the base of his spine was still wound up tight and the _ache_ still felt like a two ton weight on his entire being.

Leaning his head back, he let the water sluice down over his face and neck, let _it_ find its way down his body in all the ways he wanted _other_ things to do. He wanted to _give in_ , wanted to provide himself the touch he craved from someone else, but in the same breath, he felt _dirty_ for what he'd seen. 

Turning his hands, he let his palms slide along the wall, let them glide over the cool surface as a way to distract himself, feeling every ridge and every little seam along the path that his hands traveled. His hips rolled of their own volition. 

Arousal flared hot and _desperate_ inside of him and he choked back the shameful little sound that wanted out. It still felt so _strange_ to want like this; to desire on such a base level, no matter how many times he reacted to Jason in the exact same way. 

It'd been years since he'd dealt with the examination of his sexuality and just as long since he'd accepted it. But it still held true that when _most_ people didn't set off any of the indicators within him, when his _own_ hand didn't provide anything but meaningless bodily requirements on most occasions, it left his body a little on edge, his hands a little bit shaky, and his heart just a little more ramped up than it should have been. If he had to put a name to it, he would have called it _fear_ , no matter the bitter taste that put in his mouth. 

Fear of being found out to want someone _he shouldn't_. Fear of giving himself away when everyone close to him thought him to be completely _devoid_ of any capability of sexuality or romance.

He pushed away from the wall and focused himself on washing his body, on the steady _unchanging_ requirements of getting himself utterly clean after a night of patrolling the city. 

The burn of the tight little fire eased just the slightest under the onslaught of his usual ruthless scrubbing. The slight swell of his cock ended with the way he forced his mind onto only what he was doing, a form of meditation he'd learned long ago and completely on his own. Some would have called it escapism and _some_ would have been right, but he'd never thought such labels should bring disdain. Some people simply _needed_ to escape and there was nothing wrong with that, though it normally wasn't this he was escaping from.

Rinsing his hair, he shook it out and hit the button on the wall to cut the fall of water from the sleek silver rain-panel above him. Stepping out of the alcove, he tugged his towel over his hair and face before wrapping it around his body and stepping out onto the mat. 

A fresh bruise was blooming on his upper thigh from a run-in with one too many people all at once. Nothing he couldn't take care of, but something he hadn't been able to block without taking the hit somewhere. He rolled his shoulders and moved to the sink, settling against it was he went through the motions of brushing his teeth and moisturizing his hands for the _exact_ same reasons his father did. 

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed as he flipped off the light and stepped out into his room. 

Instantly, the coolness of an open window hit him and he bristled, let the towel fall and dropped into a crouch completely out of instinct. His hand grasped the first thing he could find that would enable a distraction if necessary: a small plate from some expedition or other in Nanda Parbat that would leave him a little distraught to break, but necessity was _just that_. 

"You can relax. I'm not here to kick your ass." Jason's voice drifted to him from his bed and Damian's heart felt like it did a sickly sort of flip-flop in his chest.

He eased the plate back onto the low shelf and gathered his towel, standing and slinging it back around his hips. "Have you ever heard of _lights_?" With a little annoyed cluck of his tongue, he made his way to his dresser, yanked it open perhaps a bit _too_ harshly and retrieved a pair of soft cotton pants. 

Three quick motions had the pants on and another found the towel in the hamper. Opening another drawer, he started to root around for a shirt. "What do you want?"

There was a moment where Damian was almost certain Jason was going to ignore him completely, one where a little sliver of an entirely different kind of fear slid through him and he fought to keep his hands steady as he chose a worn red shirt to pull over his head. He shut the dresser and took in a breath to tell Jason to either get out or talk when Jason finally offered him something to work with.

"You dropped a guy _way_ outside of your territory tonight. Care to explain?"

Damian turned, leaning back against the dresser and reached to turn on the lamp beside him. He crossed his arms and leveled his gaze on Jason's face, finding him completely cleaned up and changed from patrol; a simple pair of black jeans and a hoodie covering some artsy t-shirt. Damian's eyes tracked over the white streak in his hair, how it swept back through the rest of it and he received a _stark_ image of Slade's hand tugging at it.

Swallowing, he kept his eyes hard on Jason, searching as he spoke. " _You_ came through my territory without word that you were doing it. Protocol variance is always something to question." He put on a cruel little smirk and leaned his torso forward in just the right amount of aggression without being outright _nasty_ about it. "Isn't that why _you're_ here? I stepped out of my routine and you came to see _why_." He gave a cocky little shrug, "I did the same."

Settling back against the dresser, Damian purposefully rolled his eyes. "Dropped a guy with a big gun, called it in, and went right back to my route."

"So I've been told." Jason shifted, leaning back on his hands and forcing Damian to find a spot somewhere very carefully to the left of his head to study instead of watching him. "Before you blame Oracle, it's hard not to notice _cops_ crawling all over a rooftop right within your line of sight. Once it was clear _whose_ work it was, I only asked for a status report."

Damian let his eyes settle back on Jason's own, held them unwavering for long enough it should have counted as fearless, and then gave a disdained sort of noise before looking away. "Why do you care? Was he _your_ target?"

"It's not _him_ I actually care about and I think you know that."

A skitter of _anger_ rushed through Damian and he let the pull of his lip reflect it. "Worried I'm going to tell _Father_ about your little rendezvous?" He shoved off the dresser and moved to the window, easing against the sill and staring out into the night, letting the cool air flow past him. "Don't _worry_ , I have no interest in getting you in _trouble_ for who you choose to _engage_ with."

There was a whisper of sound and Damian knew he could have stuck out, could have taken Jason down hard if he'd wanted to, just as he understood that Jason knew it too. Jason's hand rested on the windowsill just above him as he leaned in, close enough to remind that horrible little coil at the base of his spine what it was like to have Jason pin him down on the mats. Just enough to remind his _betraying_ mind just how Jason had looked with Slade's hand around his throat and Slade's hand in his pants. 

"Do you think I'm completely blind?"

Damian worked his teeth against one another for a moment before returning, "I think you're smarter than this."

Jason's breath ghosted over his ear and Damian fought every single instinct that told him to either drop Jason like a sack of potatoes or to grab him and _claim_ that horribly sinful mouth for his own. "I think you know I'm not."

The hand Damian kept by his side slowly curled into a fist. His short nails bit bluntly into his palm and the fingers of his other hand remained completely relaxed against the frame of the window. There were a lot of ways in which his training had prepared him and not one of them had ever been for fighting off _this_ sort of desire. He had learned to kill and he had learned to hold that instinct back. He had learned to know when someone was lying and when to lead them down the path of his own lies. He had learned to kill a man with a single strike, how to disable with seemingly no effort at all, and he had learned how to control even his own heartbeat, how to bring it down to a point so close to death it was passable as just that. But in all his time, not one person had bothered to teach him how to quell the raging inferno of _desire_ that was rapidly building inside of him.

He could keep his breath from betraying him, keep his fingers from curling too tightly against the metal. He could even keep a completely neutral look on his face, but there wasn't a damn thing he'd ever learned about how to keep _other_ parts of his body from betraying him in unspeakable ways. The hot flush of arousal crept through his body and the heavy weight that implied a rush of blood southward settled low in his gut. _Soon_ there would be nothing he could to do hide how he was reacting to Jason's mere proximity to him. 

"What do you want?"

The sound of his own voice was jarring, the _pitch_ of it oh-so-wrong, so very _different_ from any other time he'd ever spoken in his life. He could hear the way his own voice told volumes that his words did not, gave away things that he had _no_ desire to share. The hot flare of fear came right behind it and he felt his gut tremble in response, a feeling he was decidedly not used to.

"Maybe it should be me asking you that question." Jason's hand came to rest on his shoulder, slid _slowly_ down over his bicep and came to rest just above his elbow. Such a simple touch and it shouldn't have felt sexual at all, shouldn't have held the _weight_ that it did.

He knew that pulling away would say just as much as staying was accomplishing. The realization that he'd been put into a situation where he'd _admit_ with his body - if not with his voice - came crashing down on him and he closed his eyes against the reality of it. Hanging his head, he took in a grounding breath, shaking his head just the slightest. "You already know. What's the point?"

Jason's hand squeezed ever so lightly before brushing back up his arm, slipping up over his shoulder again and then Jason was _there_ , a warmth behind him that slammed desire through his body in a way that left him scalding on the inside. The rush of blood blossomed into fruition and he _heard_ the way his hand tightened against the window frame, the way his breath hitched in his throat. 

"I want you to be able to admit that there are things in this world that maybe you can't control." Jason's breath came again, closer to his ear as he barely whispered out the next few words. "Maybe I'm selfish and want to hear you tell me why you react to me this way. Why you _always_ have."

Damian's stomach quivered with the proximity and the raw desire to have Jason's hands all over him. His movements were quick, calculated from somewhere in the deepest parts of his mind that _acted_ rather than reacted. He had Jason pinned, one arm behind him, one in his own grip, his hand holding Jason's blade from his waistband right up against his throat in an instant, and he _let_ him see everything in that instant. He left himself barren and naked to Jason's gaze; all of the lust and all of the longing right there for him to see. 

"Maybe _I'm_ the selfish one here. Maybe every time you _touch_ me, I feel like you've burned me." He pressed closer, eyes dropping down to where he had the blade pressed to Jason's neck, where the faintest redness of being choked still decorated Jason's skin. 

The immediate drop of need that rushed through him at the mere results of what had happened between Jason and Slade forced the rest of his confession out, easier than he'd have thought. "My entire life is full of situations that should do this me and do not. I've _experienced_ things that should have made me short of breath, should have sent my pulse soaring, and my body into some hopeless spiral of _lust_ , but none of them ever have."

He pushed back from the wall - from Jason - and flipped the blade, offering it to Jason handle-first. Jason took it and Damian moved away from him, moved to his desk and pulled out the chair, turning it around and sinking onto it backwards. He inclined his head toward his bed and waited on Jason to take a seat so that he was facing him.

"I've done things that should have made me feel even half of what you do, but they never do." He braced his arms on the top of the chair and forced his features to tell Jason everything for once in his life. "Every time you best me, I should be working on improving myself, should be doing my best to never let it happen again. But the truth is," he gave a little shake of his head, "sometimes I _let_ you beat me. I let you pin me and I let it build up until you're actually fighting me for it so you'll drop me _hard_."

Canting his hips just the slightest, Damian did his best to ignore the way his arousal was pulling at him, the way he knew it would be _achingly_ obvious if either of them so much as glanced down. "Having you pin me like you did last time _does_ things to me." Shaking his head he let himself look away from Jason to force the last bit of his admission out. "Every fiber of my being wants to be with you and I fight it every single day. Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose. Tonight... I lost. I saw you with _him_ and there wasn't a damn thing to stop me from wanting to be right in that room with you."

Standing again, Damian folded his arms and moved back towards the window. "I wanted to be a part of what you were doing, with _both_ of you and I can't even begin to explain to you how _strange_ that is in my world. Besides you, I've never _really_ wanted anyone." Damian let his hand gesture his frustration and dropped it against the window frame, staring out across the moonlit yard. "You'll have to excuse me if I outstayed my welcome, though you have to admit having the guy you're sleeping with killed because I _hadn't_ would have been a bit of a mood-killer."

Jason's snort of laughter pulled Damian back into his usual head space and he crossed his arms tight over his chest again. "Consider closing the curtains next time you _fuck_ someone. Given the company you seem inclined to keep, it's pretty likely to come up again." He hadn't meant to dig quite so deep on the last one, hadn't meant to sound jealous, and he knew exactly how it sounded once it was out of his mouth and he winced, ducking his head. "You should go."

Jason's presence loomed behind him again and this time Damian didn't hide the way his hands gripped his own arms tighter, didn't hide the way his breath hitched or his pulse skittered like mad.

"You make me _want_ you just by being _near_ me right now." He shook his head, closing his eyes and reached for the window, pushing it open further. "You need to leave."

Jason was silent for a moment and Damian could _feel_ his hand hovering over his shoulder. "Why?"

Something desperate clawed inside of Damian, told him to turn and _take_ what he wanted, what Jason's body language was _offering_ , what he _had_ to be completely oblivious that he was _saying_ without a single word. "Because I'm not sure how much longer I can hold myself back."

"From what?"

The patience in Jason's voice grated at him and the fact that Damian was certain Jason had moved incrementally closer to him did nothing to help. Pure, desperate fear slammed along Damian's every nerve and he could feel the adrenaline release right behind it. His senses heightened and he _felt_ every single way Jason was open for his strikes, open for him to take him down before he could so much as blink and he _ached_ to do exactly that, just to get out of how his body only wanted him to grab Jason and seek his pleasure with him. 

He lashed out and Jason's hand easily caught his wrist, leaving him stunned and gasping, staring at where Jason's hand curled around his wrist, held him so tightly his grip was like iron. The cry that left his lips was _anything_ but pained and the weakness in his thighs had nothing to do with pain.

"Please leave." His voice was _helpless_ to his own ears, begging and pleading in a way he'd never thought he'd ever give voice to and that brought its own brand of emotion with it. "I don't think I could stand you hating me if..." he trailed off and gave the weakest of tugs on his arm, stared at it like it had become the center of his universe and - really - he felt like it had.

"If?" Jason's warmth radiated into his being as he moved just fractionally closer to him, came to stand where he was so very nearly touching him.

"If I give in." Damian dragged his gaze from where Jason's hand gripped his wrist to the reflection of Jason's visage in the window, his breath catching at the rawness of the desire painted there. "Please..." he was fairly certain that one had nothing to do with begging Jason to _leave_.

Jason let go of his wrist and stepped around him, neatly pulling himself up on the window sill and crouching there. Their eyes met and Damian clutched the frame as if it were all that kept him from pitching right out and plummeting down below.

Jason cocked his head slightly and offered Damian a soft sort of smile. "Maybe you're not the only one who _wants_ in this situation." He reached out, _nearly_ touched Damian's cheek and then pulled away before he made contact. "Once you've made peace with this... let me know." A grin flirted with his mouth before he looked away, stood, and prepared to take the leap needed to get him to the drain pipe that would lead him down the wall. "Since you like people to be direct with you and don't catch on when they're not: I'm telling you I'd like to see where this desire of yours would take us. But, only when you're ready."

He was gone before Damian could so much as take a breath and Damian _sagged_ to his knees, knelt there and stared out at the still grounds as he did he only thing he _could_ do and reached down to take hold of himself, to _squeeze_ until he could think again. 

\----------

Damian's practice blade slapped hard against Tim's staff, an angry snarl leaving his lips as he whirled on him and swept out, attacking ruthlessly, one kick and strike after another until Tim was backed up to the edge of the mat and left with one opening. There was only one attack Tim could make to save his ass or he could throw in the towel on the match. Everything in Damian hoped he'd use the attack if only to quell the raging beast inside of him

He came in for a final blow, the move intentional to give Tim the opening he could save himself with - though it would hurt them both - and went to drive his practice sword against Tim's side. The blow with the staff was expected, the forced block coming down on his left arm, the sting of it enough to glance through his senses the way he wanted it to. The hand on his throat though, _that_ wasn't expected. 

Tim's staff clattered to the ground as Tim's fingers tightened harder and harder against Damian's neck and Damian completely forgot to so much as _move_. The unexpected rush of endorphins left him dazed, the lack of oxygen light-headed and he dredged up something that sounded like a whine before he could stop it. 

A sweep and Tim had him on the ground, knee against his groin and hand still firmly against his throat. Damian sucked in a breath, his eyes jerking up to Tim's face as he realized just how _hard_ he already was. 

Tim just regarded him quietly for a moment, the faintest hint of amusement written across his features, though most of it was questioning. "You know... you have to _give_ or I'm just going to keep you pinned forever."

Damian's body shuddered without his permission and he slammed his anger back down into place in some horrible attempt to cover it. "I fucking _give_. Get the hell off of me!"

Tim shifted back, still crouched, but decidedly out of reach. He held out his hands, palm up. "No judgment here, trust me."

Damian sat up, pulled one knee up and hunched over, trying to hide at least some of his body's betrayal. He knew how ugly the glance he gave Tim was and some part of him deeply regretted it. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Tim studied him coolly for a moment before sitting down next to him, close enough their voices wouldn't echo. "You know I'm always here to talk to. I get it that some things are more difficult than others to talk about, but," he shrugged, "I'm serious when I say I'd never judge you for anything. We all have our secrets and our demons, but that doesn’t mean we have to deal with them alone." 

They were silent for a minute before Tim pulled himself into a stretch and leaned down over his own leg, finally speaking again. "I hate dancing around things with you. It only makes me feel like I'm not getting my points across. Can I just be brutally up front with you?"

"Please do." This time Damian held back as much of the nastiness in his voice as he could manage. He hunched further over his own leg, shifting while Tim wasn't watching to ease some of the pressure of his pants against the most uncomfortable of places. 

"I've had some idea of your sexuality for... quite some time. It's not even remotely any of my business and I know that, just like I know what just happened had _nothing_ to do with me. Not your anger and certainly not your _reactions_." Tim eased up and slid down into a stretch on the other leg. "I think you're having a hard time dealing with your own reactions to a variety of other situations and given what I've come to believe about your general state of being with all things of a sexual nature, I'm pretty sure I can actually offer you some advice. That is, if you want it."

Damian stared down at the mat just beyond his foot and worked his jaw. To some degree it bothered him that anyone was even looking at him hard enough to have any idea what his sexual preferences were, much less that _Tim_ somehow knew. But to have expected any member of their sordid little group not to have made assumptions or _investigative decisions_ about any of the others was a little ridiculous. 

He let out a little huff of breath and turned his head toward Tim, pressing his cheek to his knee. "Fine. Give me your advice then."

"It will come with a lot of assumptions."

"Of that, I am fully aware. Just get on with it."

Tim shifted himself into another stretch and Damian eased himself into the only one he knew wouldn't hurt like hell at the moment to listen. "Fairly sure you thought you were asexual until you met that kid from Star City. I'm also nearly certain that nothing other than pure biological necessity ever made you do a single thing until almost a year after that _and_ I think that experience left you a little bit afraid to try again given how much more of that part of yourself you shoved into a little box after he left."

Damian pursed his lips, making a point of examining the floor. Tim wasn't _wrong_ per say. That had been his one and only sexual experience and it really hadn't been everything he'd hoped for it to be. He'd been clumsy and uncertain and the fact that he wasn't really getting much out of it had left him _confused_. He knew how it was supposed to have gone, but none of it had. 

From the first moment he'd met the guy he'd felt something _different_ for him than anyone else, but it hadn't been enough when they'd finally tumbled into bed together. He could still remember every little detail of the blowjob he'd given and that included the way his own body had _neglected_ to become excited by it at all. More than that, he recalled the stark _disappointment_ on the guy's face when he hadn't been able to show him physically how he honestly _had_ liked giving him such pleasure. 

For months he'd fought with himself over a label that he didn't even want to apply and he'd done research that had involved a myriad of lies about why he was looking it all up, not having wanted to have _this_ conversation with anyone. 

Years had passed since then and while he'd never dared to try again with anyone, he _did_ understand himself to a better degree. He understood that certain thoughts would trigger memories and those memories would provide much the same response as the initial situations had. He understood that while his focus had narrowed down to only a single person, there had always been _potential_ another would set it off for him. 

Tim's hand came to rest on his wrist and Damian shuddered _hard_ , staring down at it and then jerking his head toward Tim. "You... were in your own head." Tim gave him a little smile. "Point of talking is to _talk_ sometimes."

With a sigh, Damian pulled back up out of the stretch and back into the position that hid away what was still creating a little _incident_ in his pants. "All of that was correct." He swallowed and tilted his face up towards the cool cave air, closing his eyes. "How much do you already know about what's currently happening?"

"I know Jason came to visit you a few nights ago and I know you've been pretty shaken up since then. And... well, I'm pretty sure all of your reactions to me today, even the aggression, haven't been about me at all."

"Correct again. One point to _Hufflepuff_ for Mister Timothy Drake." He waited, hid the smile that wanted out at the reference he knew was going to shock Tim, but not trip him up enough to get him off the current path. It wasn't _meant_ to.

Tim choked out a laugh and lightly punched Damian in the arm. " _Ravenclaw_ , asshole. That's where the test sorted me. And _besides_ , I know you took it and I know you got _Gryffindor_ , so don't go trying to fool me into believing you're Slytherin."

Damian stole a glance at Tim's amusement-filled features and offered up the smallest smile of his own.

"Everyone thinks you're a big 'ol stick in the mud, but you're not." Tim winked at him and curled himself into a seated position, leaning forward to study Damian, eyes sparkling. "I'm not weirded out, you know. Even if it _was_ directed at me, I wouldn't be. Just not how I roll." 

Damian studied the smile on Tim's face, gave a little nod and looked away again. "He's been getting to me for a while. About a year in _this_ kind of way and... well, you referenced when he managed it the first time."

"You were goading me into taking you down exactly how I did because it's how _he_ would have, weren't you?"

Damian gave a little bob of his head. "I need to _deal_ with this and I can't seem to. I don't..." he freed a sigh and tilted his head back again, "I don't even know where to start dealing with it. I know what I _want_ and I know it's not nearly as _casual_ as he thinks it is and that," he gritted his teeth for a moment and then breathed out, "scares me."

Tim shifted, settling next to him, his thigh pressed up against Damian's own. He reached for his hand and waited until Damian nodded and then moved it to his own knee, resting it there. Damian stared at where his hand rested, a certain amount of confusion painting his gaze as he just kept it there, waiting on a _why_ to reveal itself. 

"Does that answer one question for you?"

The smallest laugh left him as he pulled his hand back. So it had been built to show him he wasn't having some crisis where he suddenly decided to exist on a much more sexually desperate spectrum than he had settled on in the past. "It does."

Tim moved again, this time turning to face Damian. "What makes you feel this way about him?"

The answers crowded in all at once, a million things clamoring in his mind and he opened his mouth, trying to pick one and _failing_. Their eyes met and he felt his heart slam in his chest, felt the giddy little pick-up and he _knew_ undeniably why he'd started wanting Jason. "Oh."

Tim grinned at him and flopped onto his back, bringing his leg up to hold it against his chest. "Yeah... 'oh' about covers it I think."

"How long have you known?"

"About the same time _he_ realized it."

To his credit, Damian didn't show his shock on his face, but his gut gave a startled little jolt and he managed to grit out, "What?"

"I know you don't have a lot of experience in this and you're probably going to hate me a little for this, but-" Tim rolled up to his feet and called out, "Hey, Bruce!"

The sound of something being settled on a metal counter came from behind the computer and Bruce ducked out. "Yes, Tim?"

"How long would you say Jay's known about Damian's feelings for him?"

Damian stood up, abruptly realizing he'd long-since stopped needing to hide anything and turned on the pair of them. He didn't even manage to open his mouth before Jason extracted himself from behind the computers as well. He froze in his tracks, his breath sticking in his throat, and he would have been _angry_ except that Jason looked sort of shocked to see him and _Tim_ looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

"Uh-" Jason looked like he was about to add more, but one glace at Tim's face had both Damian and Jason reaching for him.

Damian laid his hand on Tim's arm and lightly squeezed, breathing out, "It's fine. _We're_ fine." He let him go and stepped back, feeling like he wanted to bolt, like he wanted to run away from everything that was happening, but knowing he _shouldn't_. Swiping his tongue over his lips, he shook his head and turned away. "Jason." He started to walk toward the stairs. "It would seem we need to talk."

He didn't stop until he was in his own room, hesitating in the center of it before moving to his bed and drawing himself up onto it, settling with his back against the wall. The door clicked shut behind Jason and Damian waited while Jason took the chair from his desk and settled it directly in front of him, sitting astride it just the same as Damian had done the last time. 

They regarded one another in silence for a minute, Damian deciding what it was he needed to say first. "Did you... overhear anything?"

"Only what Tim said to Bruce." Jason shifted, huffing out a breath and leveling his gaze on Damian. "This will be easier if one of us takes the plunge here. The answer to Tim's question is I've _suspected_ for a number of years now that you were developing feelings beyond the _usual_ sort for me. Of course, I'm not in your head and I can't make any assumptions about emotions." He held up a hand, keeping Damian from saying anything just yet. "Let me get this out."

Damian nodded and Jason drummed his fingers somewhat nervously on the wooden back of the chair. "From your reactions I take it we're at least close to the truth in that regard and if that's true, I want you to know I'm... uh... game."

The fact that one of Damian's eyebrows started to make a hike for hairline was an unstoppable reality, as was the relieved sort of laugh that choked up from his throat. Tilting his head back, he stared up at the ceiling, slowly shaking it. "I'm trying to come to terms with the realization that I've been sort of going down this road with you for a long time now. I saw you and Slade and I thought it was all about _sex_ , you know? I'm not even sure how to deal with," his hand gestured between them, "this."

Jason pushed up from the chair and moved to the edge of the bed, waiting until Damian nodded before he slipped onto it, easing himself against the wall beside Damian, their thighs pressed together. The fact that Damian's hand reached out and settled on his knee was just an unstoppable _fact_. This time shocks of pleasure slid through his body and all he wanted to do was get closer to Jason. His next breath was shaky as he watched Jason cover his hand with his own, weave their fingers together and just _hold_ him right there. 

"Are we okay?"

Damian turned his head, found Jason _right there_. His heart gave a startled little jump and he just let the words out that wanted to come. "Kiss me."

Jason's smile was the most genuine thing Damian had ever seen as he leaned closer. "Meet me halfway."

Excitement frizzled through every cell of Damian's body as he turned just a fraction more, as he moved their hands to Jason's thigh, and his lips pressed lightly over Jason's own. Warmth flooded his body and he understood that _this_ was what he'd been missing before. This was what it felt like to actually want someone with every single fiber of his being. 

Jason's tongue lightly traced over his lips and Damian opened his mouth, let him in and let Jason _teach_ him how to do this. 

By the time they drew apart, he was heady and _throbbing_ and everything in him was desperate to know Jason in every single way he possibly could. He shuddered _hard_ and Jason freed his hand to cup his cheek and draw him in for a softer series of kisses, the last one a simple lingering press of his lips. "How about... we work with this. I'm going to go finish up the computer and _you're_ going to figure out what you actually want from all of this." He pressed another gentle kiss to his lips. "Either way. If you want to fuck this frustration out or if you want _more_ than that... I'm here. Have been for quite a while."

Jason pulled away then, sliding off the bed and heading toward the door.

"But Slade," Damian let himself stop there, knowing he didn't need to say more for Jason to understand him.

Jason paused, his hand on the doorknob, looking back at Damian, a little smile on his lips. "An amazing lay and one I'm certainly willing to introduce you to if that's what you think you want, but nothing more than that."

Damian nodded, slumping back against the wall and listening to the door shut behind Jason. He brought his hand to rest against his lips, against lips Jason had just done a very thorough job of kissing, and he released a pleased little sound. He'd spent years wondering what it would feel like to _want_ something like this, too much time trying to pretend he understood when he'd been tossed into a college curriculum that he thought to be a waste of his time for the more social aspects of it, and _now_... now he got it. The thrill when Jason had touched him, the way his blood was still set to simmer from the idiotically benign act of kissing, the way the insistent throb between his legs was more than happy to tell him it had picked up on his hormones more than it ever had before. All of it was nothing short of intoxicating and he knew - if nothing else - that he had to sort this one out before he went a single step further with it.

\-------

It wasn't exactly easy, sorting out what he'd been tasked to, but Damian had never taken anything in life as less than a challenge to his intelligence. As such, he spent the next few hours mulling over everything he'd ever felt for Jason, picking himself apart on a level that most people would have cringed to even think about. It was the sort of drive to discover himself that left others broken and hating themselves; but for Damian it was simply _routine_. 

He'd learned a long time ago how to dissect his own world; how to pull himself apart and examine it as if he were doing so from the outside rather than as an active participant in it all. In a lot of ways it was less introspective than it maybe should have been and it probably left him with a good amount of other clinical words that he neglected to see as a part of this exercise in bettering himself. But none of that mattered, especially not with his current situation. 

Hours of plucking apart his own mind left him staring sightlessly out the window, his arms held tight around his middle as he stood - unmoving - against the slowly fading sunlight. It was only the lightest of taps on his study door that broke him free of the spell he'd put himself under. 

Turning his head, he offered up a quiet, "Come," watching as the door was pushed open and Jason entered the room. Turning back to the world outside, he let his gaze actually find things about what was in front of him: the fall of yellowed leaves, the patchwork of the sky dappled behind the clouds and the rays of the sun's disappearance behind the horizon, but there was a smile on his lips now that had been absent before. "You know I've made my decision."

The world around him seemed to increase in temperature as Jason settled against the windowsill close to him. "An assumption, but good to know I'm right."

Damian's lips quirked up a bit more. Another assumption, but not one that was in any way incorrect. He turned away from the window, leaning back against it, his fingers finding the ledge along the bottom and curling around it. "I'd like to start with what we know is fairly likely to work between us and go from there, wherever it takes us."

The fact that he could see the spark of arousal in Jason's eyes did nothing to quell the excitement within him as he watched his reactions. The quirk of his lips all the way to the way he dragged his tongue over his lower lip. "Sex then." The smile in his voice spoke volumes and Damian let it speak for both of them as he sank back against the sill in a way that _invited_. Cool and calculating, but inviting, none the less.

Jason pushed away from the window and moved until he was looming over Damian. He put his hand on the wall beside him and leaned down, catching Damian's chin and lifting it, letting their lips ghost over one another, whispering out his next question. "Do you want everything or just... pieces?"

Damian shivered into the kiss, a spark of awareness traveling through his entire body. "Everything."

"Greedy little _shit_ ," Jason breathed out against his lips before claiming them _hard_ , pushing his tongue past Damian's lips and claiming him.

Damian let himself grasp Jason's arms, let him hold on as Jason tasted him again and again, as their tongues met and he _explored_ for the first honest time in his life. 

By the time Jason pulled back from the kiss, Damian had one hand fisted in Jason's hair, the other holding his wrist as he kept his hand tight against his hip. Ducking his head, he choked back the moan that wanted out, and instead freed a little huff of a laugh as he rested his head against his chest. "It is... slightly _wrong_ how turned on I am right now."

Jason's breath was at his ear again, forcing a shiver down his spine. "Because we could be _caught_? Because you actually _want_ this so bad you're already _hard_?" Jason's hand caught Damian's wrist instead and tugged it to his abdomen, gave the barest hint that Damian should let his hand travel downwards before he let go. "Or that I am?"

Damian's hand shifted at the sound of the words, at the _admission_ floating in the air between them. He trailed his fingers down over his belt and lower until he found the warmth of Jason's cock, until his fingers were tracing the shape of it trapped in his jeans, until he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and _show_ Jason just how much he wanted him.

Before he knew it, his hand was moving, stroking Jason through the fabric of his pants as he hungrily reclaimed his mouth, as he kissed him like nothing else mattered in the entire universe except Jason's lips and mouth and the press of his cock against his palm. His entire world narrowed down to only what was happening, to Jason's breath and the buck of his hips, to the heat that radiated off of him, and down to the shake in Jason's fingers as he held onto his shoulders ever so loosely. 

His fingers shifted, found Jason's belt and made quick work of it, unfastening his pants a moment later. The sound of his zipper left his legs like Jello and he let out a rough little moan against Jason's lips as he dropped down to his knees, going with what he _knew_. Something inside of him was desperate to show Jason that he knew more than he thought he did.

Jason's fingertips traced over his cheek, dragged up to his hair and gently slipped through it. " _Anything_ you want..."

Damian's fingers paused, teasing the edge of his waistband before he tilted his head back and let himself give a slow roll of his hips, feeling how different this was from the only other time he'd been on his knees for someone. The press of his own arousal was a persistent sort of pull between his legs and the way his heart thrummed in his chest was exhilarating. Biting lightly at his lip, he leaned in and rubbed his cheek over the bulge of Jason's cock, turned and pressed his lips against it, sliding them up along the full length of his clothed heat. Parting his lips, he let his teeth find the shape of it and provide the sensation of them dragging along it.

Jason's hips jerked and he let out a rough groan, followed by a hoarse little laugh. "Shit... keep doing that."

Damian let his tongue drag over the denim, gave in to sucking at the tip until the material was wet, and then grazed his teeth over his jeans again. Jason's moan gave him encouragement, led his hand to squeezing the base and his mouth to working over the head, biting lightly at the saliva-soaked portion of his pants. 

Jason's unsteady breath, the way he pushed his hips toward Damian, left him shaking slightly, desperate to learn more about how to draw these reactions out of him. Parting the panels of his jeans, he let his mouth move to his boxers, let himself suck on the head with some form of desperation, his cheeks hollowing as he tasted the essence of Jason's precum soaked into the fabric. 

Jason's hand hit the wall a second before his hips jerked. "You're... holy _shit_."

Damian ran his teeth over him again before he pulled down the last barrier between them and slid his mouth over the tip of his cock, tongue flicking along the slit as his hand curled around the rest of him. He let his tongue explore, almost French-kissing his cock with the exception of the slight twist of his head that gave a little bit more to the whole thing. It wasn't _experience_ that did anything for this, but more the sensation of having Jason in his mouth that excited him and led him to doing the things he was. 

One glance upward had Jason's hand in his hair, holding on tight as he stared down at him. "Keep watching me... oh _fuck_ keep watching. Ah. _Me_."

Damian swirled his tongue again and Jason _whined_ , his hips rocking lightly against Damian's fist, his cock just barely pushing further into his mouth, still only pushing halfway over his tongue.

"Do you... do you _want_ it?"

Something shifted inside of Damian, a sharp little pang of desire bursting low in his gut and he sucked harder in response. Jason let out a moan, dropping his head and shoulders back on the wall, his hips pushing forward and staring at quick little thrust that Damian immediately fell into, his hand providing the rest of the friction that his mouth didn't. 

Jason groaned and Damian kept moving, stroking and swiping his tongue over the head again and again, swirling it around and then dipping into the slit only to flick up along the underside and then swipe across the head again. The last little slick of his tongue brought a cry from Jason's lips and with three sharp little cants of his hips, the twitch of Jason's orgasm came. The bitter taste of cum flooded his mouth and Damian instantly forced himself to swallow. The taste was unpleasant, but it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had to swallow down and he did it without really showing much of any emotion about it until Jason was spent.

Slipping off of him, Damian sat back and took stock of himself, finding his cock was still very much hard in his pants and he let the blush of pleasure slip over his cheeks. Reaching down, he palmed himself and bit lightly at his own lip as he squeezed.

"Jason." His voice sounded rough, needy in a way he wasn't used to hearing from his own lips. 

With a shiver, he pushed himself to his feet and slid his thumb over his own lips, ensuring he hadn't smeared anything over them. He shifted closer to Jason, reaching down and situating Jason's clothing to cover him just in case someone decided they needed to be in the study. Leaning in, he met Jason halfway for another kiss, this one slow and more than a little heartfelt. Smiling against his lips, he breathed out, "How'd I do?"

"Really?" Jason's laugh was soft, the caress of his lips even softer against Damian's cheek. "You have to ask after I came that hard for you?"

"Maybe I want to _hear_ it."

Chuckling, Jason moved to catch his earlobe and nip at it. "You rocked my world and unless I'm _mistaken_ , that makes it my turn to rock yours."

Damian shuddered hard, a sound of pure _want_ freeing itself without his permission. His hips jerked against Jason's and he didn't bother any form of protest as he was backed up to Bruce's chair, pushed down to sit on it. Jason's hands rubbed up over his thighs and then tugged him forward a bit on the chair by his hips. His pants were moved out of the way faster than he could really think about what was happening and when Jason's hot mouth slid down around his cock, Damian couldn't do anything but jerk his hips upward toward the warm cavern of it.

Jason held his hips, kept him where he was straining toward him, and slid down over him, slowly sliding back up and then plunging down again. There was an easy rhythm to it, a familiarity to it that let Damian's trembling body ease down into it. He shuddered, letting his head fall back against the leather backrest, let his body tighten the way it always wanted to be when he was with himself, when his body deemed a certain necessity. There was a familiarity there, too, though it was different in a lot of ways as well. The tremble in his belly was different and the fact that he never knew what was coming, never knew if Jason was going to give a little sound that vibrated through him or if he was going to flick his tongue to provide just a little something else to the whole array of sensations.

Everything in him felt strung out, like a bowstring drawn taut, and he could feel how close he was to starting to truly lose control over his own body. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and then _let go_. It was like falling over the very first ledge he'd ever unintentionally plunged over. It was fear and it was trust. It was a shock of adrenaline and it was the sweet promise of _calm_. His hips jerked and his own voice rang out as he cried out. Jason swallowed around him and the tightness of being in his mouth shot straight through him. Heat flooded his body and his thighs began to shake, his hands grasping the armrests until they creaked as he rocked up into his mouth, again and again.

Abruptly, it was happening, his orgasm slamming into him like some perverse freedom he'd never experienced before. His breath caught and what had once been a pleasant self-experience became something shockingly _necessary_. He heard himself, heard his voice calling out over and over, and he caught the glimpse of pleasure sparkling in Jason's eyes as he held him in his mouth, swallowing down what Damian offered him.

All at once it became far too much and Damian let out a shocked sort of sound, reaching for Jason. But before he could push him off, Jason was slipping off of him, giving him a final lick as the last bit of cum beaded along his slit. Jason pushed himself up and leaned over Damian, gathering him up, drawing him up from the chair to pull him flush against his body.

Damian held onto him, his face buried against Jason's chest as he panted for his breath. His hands shook and his entire being flip-flopped between utterly confused and completely _satisfied_. 

Jason's hand rubbed slow circles over his back, the other resting at his waist, gently holding him against him, the heat of his breath ruffling his hair. Damian shivered and Jason whispered out, "I need the truth. Are you okay?"

Damian's hands fisted in Jason's shirt, another hard shiver wracking his body, a broken sort of moan following it, and he arched against Jason, the shock of contact freeing another kind of sound from him. 

Jason turned them and lifted Damian to sit on the desk. Normally it would have pissed him off, would have left him struggling and angry that someone was abusing his smaller stature like this, but it just didn't feel that way, didn't feel like something to run from. Instead, the moment Jason wrapped his arms around him again, he felt like this was _protection_. From what, he wasn't sure, but it felt like safety and like something to stop his heart from beating right out of his chest as he tried to sort out what had just happened in his mind. 

He wanted Jason, even now, even just having _had_ him, he still desired. His body disagreed for the time being, completely devoid of the southward blood rush that would tell of such things, but his skin wanted Jason flush up against him and his mind wanted to clutch and rub, wanted to stake a _claim_ on Jason. "I..." he shook his head slightly and offered, "not sure."

"This is the first time someone's touched _you_ , isn't it?" Damian nodded and Jason pressed a kiss to his hair, nuzzling against him a moment later. "I hope like hell the answer to this is yes, but... do you trust me?"

"Implicitly."

"I promise there will be more contact in a moment. _Better_ contact. But I have to step back for a minute, okay?"

Damian forced himself to let go of Jason, forced his hands to follow his directions as he slid off the table when Jason stepped back, and pull his clothing back into place. He gave a cursory check to the table and chair to ensure he hadn't left behind anything untoward, and accepted the fact that Jason was reaching for his hand, leading him along.

A flight of stairs later and one closed door led them to Damian's room where Jason immediately began stripping down. "You don't have to take yours off if you don't want to, but I think with how you're reacting, it would be better if you did." There was a question somewhere in Jason's voice and Damian took a moment to watch how his hands were shaking, to feel how his heart wasn't at all convinced he was okay just yet, and he decided Jason _knew better_ than he could in this case.

It was quick work, ridding himself of his clothing. By the time he had, Jason was under his covers, holding them up for him to join. 

The warmth of the covers around him was immediate and he was grateful for the heating pad someone had had the foresight to turn on.

Jason cocooned them in the covers and then slid his arms around Damian, tugging him flush against his body. Damian's response was immediate, his knee sliding between Jason's thighs, his arms caught between them, and his mouth pressed to Jason's shoulder as Jason peppered him with kisses.

It didn't take long for his trembling to stop or for the strange little quiver in his belly to ease up. All of the confusion seemed to fade into the background, leaving behind the relief he'd initially felt and he turned to rest his cheek against Jason instead, his eyes closed as he spoke. "How did you know?"

"I didn't." Jason's hand pressed to the small of his back, palm flat against the heavy scar there. "I just hoped it might help."

Damian eased back from Jason enough to move his hands again, capturing one of Jason's in between his own, lacing his fingers with Jason's and just examining how they looked twined together. He was silent for what felt like an eternity before he finally kissed their intertwined fingers, hiding his smile against them. "It's been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

Jason's fingers combed through his hair, catching the back of his neck and holding him, his other hand just barely squeezing Damian's own. "Yeah," a kiss to his forehead, "I'd say it has."


End file.
